


things are always better in the morning

by SylphOfLight



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comfort, M/M, this is really cliche i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:23:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylphOfLight/pseuds/SylphOfLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean has a nightmare, and Marco reminds him that he's here and alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	things are always better in the morning

“Marco…?”

 

You stare at the bloody, rotting mess on the ground and you can’t, _you won’t_ , believe what you’re seeing. His chewed-up grimace is a mockery of Marco’s smile and the stench of death hits you like a blow to the gut. Blood oozes out of him, creating a splurge of unbearable red beneath him. _This isn't Marco_ , you repeat like a mantra in your head, _this isn't Marco_ and maybe it’ll come true, _this isn't Marco_ and maybe he’ll be safe in your arms again.

 

You can’t look away, because then you might forget what Marco looks like and you don’t want him go, he didn't deserve it and why didn't it take you instead _why him **why him**_

 

You want to scream and cry but you can’t feel anything because how could you when your heart had been ripped out and torn in half and lain next to the boy you loved—

 

 

**“Trainee, do you know his name?”**

 

The voice cuts through you like a blade and you almost double over from the pain that hurts, hurts, hurts so bad you want to throw up. You try to stutter out words but you can’t because the world is going black and you are falling _falling **falling**_

 

 

***

 

Jean wakes up with a shudder. 

 

He looks desperately around, needing proof that he is in his warm, safe apartment with Marco breathing beside him, not trapped in a nightmare where everything he loved was rotting on the ground. 

 

He turns on the bedside lamp, and yes, everything is completely normal. The furniture hasn't moved; his clothes are strewn across the floor; Marco is snoring gently at his side. Jean leans over and peppers kisses on Marco’s body, aiming for the freckles, just so he can feel Marco warm and breathing and alive. 

 

After the first few kisses, Marco shifts to face Jean.

 

“Not that I mind being lavished with attention,” he murmurs sleepily, “but what brought this on? It’s 3:17am.”

 

Jean presses their foreheads together and he lets out a shaky breath. 

 

‘I had a nightmare,” he whispers. “That you. Died.” His voice cracks on the last word. 

 

Marco’s eyes widen, and he responds by tightly wrapping his arms around Jean’s trembling frame. 

 

It takes all Jean has not to sink into him and roll around in the sheets but they’re both too tired for morning sex and he knows it. Instead, he simply rests his head against Marco’s chest and focuses on the steady _in and out_ of his breathing. 

After a few minutes of cuddling, Marco gets up and Jean can feel his face making a ridiculous pout that is beyond his control. 

 

“Stop pouting Jean, I’m not leaving. Come on, just follow me,” Marco says with a gentle smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes and an armful of blankets and Jean swears he can feel himself falling in love with him all over again.

 

They exit their apartment and start heading to the roof. Once they get there, Marco sets the blankets in messy pile, save one. 

 

He extends his hand in the most ridiculous way, all twirling wrists and wiggling eyebrows.

“Together, Mr. Kirschtein?”

Jean take his hand.

“Always, Marco.”

 

The two collapse on the pile, laughing like ten year olds, and Marco throws the remaining blanket over them.

They talk about nothing in particular for what seems like hours, merely relishing the other’s presence, an oasis of calm throughout all the crazy. Marco tilts his head and looks at Jean curiously. 

 

“Feeling better yet?”

 

By now, the nightmare is just a distant memory, and Marco’s ridiculous bed hair, Marco’s laugh, Marco’s sweet kisses are the here and now. Jean kisses him as hard as he can and lets Marco decide the answer for himself.

As the conversation drifts into a peaceful silence, Jean suggests that they should head back.

“Where’s the romantic in you, Jean?” Marco teases. “The sun’s just about to rise! We should watch it, sleep can wait.”

Sure, Jean supposes a sunrise would look quite nice, but really, it’s the thought of Marco’s expression, of pure, innocent joy, that he wouldn't miss seeing for the world, that has him staying. 

 

And as the first rays of sunlight bleed into a pastel sky, as he lounges in a giant blanket pile, as Marco’s hand is interlinked with his, Jean doesn’t think he’s ever felt so _happy_.

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha, thanks for sticking around for my first fic!! i thought jeanmarco could use something sickeningly fluffy because canon is already sad enough. but yeah feel free to comment and what not!!! 
> 
> title was taken from to kill a mockingbird.
> 
> also, help, i can't write plot for the life of me.
> 
> [EDIT]: hooooly crap i've edited most of the mistakes out so wow i really need a beta


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